


The House in the Field

by smolranger



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, C2E77 has me feeling all kinds of feels, Gen, Scars, but like...soft angst, caleb's backstory, incorrect german probably, more stuff about the Vollstreckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolranger/pseuds/smolranger
Summary: Caleb leads the Mighty Nein to the house where Trent kept them. They were hoping to find information and they were expecting to find a fight. They were not prepared to find a helpless teenager.





	The House in the Field

“That’s the house? You’re sure?” Beau asked. 

“Ja, I’m sure. It is still a ways off but…I’m sure.” His eyes looked far away as he rubbed his hands up and down his forearms. 

“Do you want some booze?” Nott offered. 

Caleb laughed without humor. “No, I am…I will be alright. Thank you.” 

The group ducked back into the line of trees they had come from, settling back into the relative safety of the dense brush. The house was the only structure in a sprawling field, filled with nothing but waist-high grass and wildflowers. On a sunny day, it might have been pretty. But today the sky was gray and gloomy and rain-soaked the fields, the grass sticking together in wet clumps. 

“No real way to approach unseen, I suppose,” Fjord noted, surveying the field from their hiding spot in the woods. 

“No,” Caleb said sadly. “That is intentional. This spot was chosen specifically. The house is larger than it seems from here too. It has a large basement.” 

“Creepy,” Beau said. “We’ll approach after dark?” 

“Yes, that would be best,” Caleb said. “I do not want us to be seen. If this comes to a fight I do not think it will go in our favor. Jester, are you ready to try what we discussed?” 

“Yep! Just a minute.” She sat down criss-cross on the ground, scrunched her eyes closed, and cast Locate Object. After much discussion, they had settled on a small silver ring Trent had been wearing. A ring wouldn’t be warded the way Trent was (hopefully), and if he was (hopefully) wearing it and nearby, he’d appear on Jester’s Locate Object radar (hopefully). 

“I still think this plan has a lot of ifs,” Fjord said. “If any part of this doesn’t work and Trent is here, we’re fucked.”   
Caleb’s jaw was tight. “If he is here…we will have to fight just long enough to buy time to escape. But I do not think he will be, everything is so busy with the war. And if we can look through the house…there is much there that could be valuable.” 

Jester opened her eyes again. “I can’t find the ring. He’s not there.” 

Caleb nodded. “We do not have to do this if the group thinks it is too risky. I would not force you all to do this…for the sake of the war or for me.” 

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Beau said, “Ikithon needs to die. The Cerberus Assembly needs to fall. This is the first step.” 

Fjord nodded. “Then we’ll leave at nightfall.” 

“Nightfall,” Caleb agreed. 

***

The rain hadn’t let up by dusk, and it soaked their backs as they made their way across the field, Jester’s magic pulling the shadows close to them. They stepped as lightly as they could, trying to pull the grass in behind them to cover their tracks. 

“It will be easy for someone to follow us,” Caleb muttered. 

“It’s alright,” Beau said. “We won’t be here long. We’ll set someone to keep watch. If Trent’s not here, could someone else be?” 

“I doubt it,” he said. “Sometimes we were left with another teacher, but very rarely. When he went back to the school he would usually take us with him.” 

They approached the house, and Jester and Caduceus peered into the darkened windows. “It’s empty. Nobody and no lights on.” 

“Upstairs, at least,” Caleb muttered. The Nein made their way slowly through the front door and into the unremarkable front room. It had a few couches and a single, low table. “I will send Frumpkin ahead, to scope out the rest of the -“ 

He was interrupted by a floorboard creaking in the next room, and the barely audible sound of a heavy breath. Everyone froze. 

“Beauregard?” Caleb asked, “Can you get behind me?” She moved to stand just at his shoulder, squared off and staff ready. “Everyone else, get ready to run.” 

Nobody moved. Possibly nobody breathed. Caleb summoned a dancing light, letting it float just above his outstretched palm. He reached for the door. “Ein…zwei…” and on three he turned the handle, just barely poking his head in. 

They heard another breath, this one scared and shuddering, but no more movement. Caleb summoned a few more globes and let them drift slowly into the room until a figure caught the light. There was a humanoid figure curled up against the far wall, face gleaming in the dim, colored light. 

“Who is it?” a young, scared voice asked in Zemnian. “I was about to - I was going to,” he stuttered. 

Caleb stepped forward and cast the figure into the full light of the dancing orbs. He was a boy, probably in his teens, sitting on the floor and curled against the far wall. His face glistened with sweat and his arms were soaked in blood. He was holding a roll of bandages in one shaking hand as if trying and failing to bandage his own wounds. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he surveyed the strangers, not daring to say anything else. 

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Caleb responded in Zemnian. He could feel Beau’s questioning eyes burrowing into the back of his head. “My name is Caleb.” 

“Where are the others?” The boy asked. 

“I…I did not see them on my way in.” He assumed he could make it seem like he was meant to be here, at least for a little while. “Are they going to be here soon?” 

“I don’t know,” the boy answered. “He told them they weren’t allowed to help me and took them away, I’ve been here, I’ve been waiting…” his lip started quivering, and he started rubbing furiously at his eyes, smearing blood across his cheeks. “You didn’t see them when you came? Were you sent…” He trailed off again, but the intention was obvious. Were you sent to come get me?

Caleb felt like a vise was gripping his heart. He leaned towards Beau and whispered in Common, “One of Trent’s. His arms…you see.” 

Beau’s face was tight, her lips pulled thin. “We can’t leave him here, Caleb,” she whispered back. “Not after he’s seen our faces.” 

“Scheisse,” Caleb muttered back. “Scheisse. Okay.” He switched back to Zemnian. “What is your name, boy?” 

“Ralph,” he said. The barest hint of suspicion was beginning to cross his face. “And you are Caleb.” 

“Yes. Listen, Ralph. You don’t look well. You’ve been left with wounds festering and with nobody to heal you. I can…we can help you. But we are not…we are not with the Assembly.” 

As Caleb expected, the boy understood immediately. And as Caleb feared, he did not react well. 

“You…you are spies, thieves!” He said, now speaking in heavily accented Common. “You shouldn’t be here.” He pulled himself to his feet, leaning one bloody hand against the wall, and holding one in front of him, a little bit of arcane energy building in his palm. 

Beau stepped forward with her staff at the ready. Caleb reached out, about to caution her or ask her to wait, when the boy tried to lunge toward Beau. But as soon as he left the support of the wall his knees buckled, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he crumpled onto the floor. 

“Oh. Well. That takes care of that,” Beau said. 

Caleb knelt down and touched the boy's cheek. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, but Caleb could feel a faint pulse. “He is very hurt. Caduceus?” Caleb called out. “Jester? Could you come in here, please?” 

Beau watched Caleb’s face as Jester gently moved the boy aside. He started at the boy’s form with an oddly vacant expression, his eyes misty and far away. 

“Caleb,” Beau said, nudging him gently. “What do you want to do.” 

Caleb’s eyes snapped toward Beau. He snapped his fingers, summoning Frumpkin onto his shoulder. “Let’s search the basement, and then I think we must get out of here as quickly as we can.” 

Nott disabled a trap drawer, and they found a few stacks of papers that would be of use later on. They made their way back before daybreak, still fighting through the wind and pouring rain, with Caduceus holding the unconscious teenager in his arms. 

***

Hours later they were in the safety of the hut, the rain rattling gently across the roof and the rustle of leaves all around them. Caleb was leaning against the wall, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall, after trying and failing several times to fall asleep. 

Cad had assured them that he was exhausted and dehydrated rather than seriously injured, though blood loss from the dozens of cuts (dozens! Caleb had never had that many at once) hadn’t helped. And sure enough, Caduceus had dug three small pieces of residuum crystal from the still-healing wounds. Now his arms were neatly bandaged and tucked close to him as he slept. He looked even younger now than he had in the house. 

Just as Caleb was starting to doze off, sitting up and holding Frumpkin, Ralph started and sat upright, shouting “Stop! Please, it hurts!” Then he froze, staring at Caleb, panic filling his eyes. 

“Where am I?” He demanded Zemnian. He went to push himself away from Caleb and then realized his legs were tied. Behind him, Caleb noticed that Beau was now very much awake, one hand lightly on her staff. 

“Sh, careful. Don’t go too fast, you’re still very weak. I’m sorry,” Caleb apologized, gesturing to the ropes. “A necessary precaution. We couldn’t risk you trying to run.” 

Ralph blinked rapidly, glancing around the hut as if searching for exits. Nobody else seemed to stir. “You didn’t bind my hands. I could still fight you.” 

Caleb gave him a sad, half-smile. “You are very brave, but I hope you are also smart enough to realize how foolish that would be. We don’t want to hurt you. We’ve bandaged your wounds and given you shelter. Please don’t force our hands by doing something rash and stupid.” 

The boy drew in on himself but didn’t make any move toward violence. “Why did you take me here? What are you going to do with me?” 

Caleb sighed. “This had nothing to do with you. It was a mistake. We were coming to search for an empty house and we found you instead. I didn’t imagine that Trent would leave one of his schuelein…unattended.” The boy bristled a little at the nickname little student. It wasn’t used in a wholly flattering way at the academy. 

“So you are spies,” Ralph said. “How did you find this place? How did you even know it was here?” 

Caleb considered the boy for a moment, then rolled up his sleeve and offered the inside of his forearm. “I was one of you, brother. One of his schuelein. Many years ago.” 

Ralph reached out and touched his arm hesitantly like it might be hot. “They’re faded but …the same. You’re not lying?”

Caleb nodded in agreement. “I’m not lying. It seems you’ve had more than most, though. More than I remember.” 

The boy’s face looked pinched. “It…it works better on me than the other two. But I started to fight back. I was tired…I was so tired of the pain. I’m not strong enough. He left me alone as punishment. I’m not sure how long it had been.” 

“You are very strong. You’ve been mistreated” Caleb said firmly, surprising himself with the resolution in his voice. This was a child.

He shook his head as if Caleb’s reassuring words weren’t even considering. “What will you do with me now?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” Caleb sighed. “We cannot let you go back to Trent. I would apologize for that if I weren’t saving you from a terrible fate.” He could see the boy scowl at that. “Perhaps we will take you somewhere outside of the empire. But we will not hurt you. I won’t let any of my friends harm you. I swear it.” 

Ralph only nodded, suddenly looking very tired again. 

“All the Zemnian is making my friend nervous, I can tell,” Caleb said in Common, glancing over at Beau. “So I will stop. You should rest. There will be more travel in the morning.” 

“I will. But…you swore it. Remember.” 

“I remember.” 

In a matter of minutes, he was asleep again, clearly aching and utterly exhausted. 

Beau regarded his sleeping form from the other side of the hut, some kind of emotion building at the corner of her eyes that Caleb couldn’t quite pinpoint. “What did you promise him?

“That we would not hurt him,” Caleb answered. “I showed him the scars, so there is a little bit of trust now, I think.” 

Beau nodded, still looking at the sleeping boy. “He seems awfully calm about being a prisoner.” 

“Well, you saw where he was. We healed and bandaged him, we are not hurting him. That is much better treatment than he was getting at Trent’s hands. He told me he had been left alone with his wounds as punishment.” Without thinking, Caleb reached out and brushed the hair off of Ralph’s forehead. 

“And you were that young, too?” Beau asked. 

“Yes, just about. Sixteen or seventeen.” 

“Damn. That’s messed up. No wonder you have so many issues.” 

“Ja, thank you, Beauregard,” Caleb said dryly. 

“Yeah, no problem.” She gave him her usual shit-eating grin, but tonight it lacked energy. “You need to sleep too. We can’t leave until you get your spells back. I’ll keep watch for a little bit.” 

“Yeah, Danke. I will.” 

Eventually, with Frumpkin purring on his stomach, Caleb fell asleep, expecting nightmares that never came.


End file.
